
Stephen Shannon 




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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT: 



'Pascagoula" ^-3f 



Stephen Shannon 

AUTHOR OF 
"GOLDEN THOUGHTS" 




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Copyrighted December, 1910 
Jno. W. Williams, Publisher 

DAVIS, OKLAHOMA, U. S. A. 






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INTRODUCTION 

On the Southern boundary of Jackson County, 
Mississippi, is Pas-ca-goii-la Bay, which name is 
of origin, meaning "Winning Maiden." Ancient 
Indian legend has it, that back in the dim, 
almost forgotten past, long before the inva- 
sion of white settlers in that country, a weaker 
tribe of Indians were being suppressed by a 
stronger one. After being practically annihilated, 
the remaining few assembled on the banks of the 
beautiful Pas-ca-gou-la and made one more stand 
for life and liberty; but rather than submit to 
capture and torture, drowned themselves in tkis 
bay. From this incident the legendary story 
"Pas-ca-gou-la" is woven and dedicated to all 
lovers of nature. 

The Author. 



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PAS-CA-GOU-LA 



Pas-ca-gou-la lov'd the flowers 
Growing wild on every hand, 

Lov'd to hunt, to fish, to wander 
Through the dismal timber'd land. 



Pascagoula 



Pas-ca-gou-la: "Winning Maiden," 

She was but a red man's child, 
Dwelling on the Ocean's frontage 

Where the winds blew fierce or mild; 
Raven locks of dangling tresses, 

Matted thick her comely head; 
Features strong, yet kindly mellow'd; 

Pouting lips of cherry red; 
Form, as perfect as Agnora's; 

Face, as fresh as morning's dew; 
Eyes, that sparkled as the starling's, 

Pillow'd in ethereal blue; 
Voice, as sweet as falling waters; 

Disposition, prone to mild, — 
When arous'd, was like the tempest, 

When at peace, was like a child. 



Pas-ca-gou-la's aged Father, 
Chief 0-si-ka, rul'd the tribe, 

Rul'd it with an hand of iron 
That not even fear could bribe. 



Many moons with varied seasons. 

Came in turn and pass'd away, 
And his daughter, only daughter. 

Grew more handsome day by day; 
She to him was life and living. 

And the children lov'd her so, 
That they eager sought and watch'd her 

As we watch the flowers grow; 
Cautious, lest some lurking danger 

Overtake her unaware; 
For they scented — as their custom — 

Danger brooding in the air; 
While the warbucks vow'd by moonlight 

She be fairer than the day. 
Or the brilliant tropic flowers 

Gently nodding by the way. 
Even sunbeams seem'd to court her, 

While the dreamy shades of night 
Linger'd long as if to shield her 

'Till the dawning of the light 
Drove the dark plutonic shadows 

In the sombre netherwhere, 
Where a sunbeam held them pris'ners 

Through the daylight foul or fair. 



Six 



Pascagoula 



Pas-ca-gou-la lov'd the flowers 

Growing wild on every hand, 
Lov'd to hunt, to fish, to wander, 

Through the dismal timber'd land; 
Lov'd to hear the fond dove cooing, 

Lov'd to track the deer and bear, 
Lov'd to feel the breezes surging 

Through her strands of braided hair; 
Lov'd to watch the dying sunbeams, 

As they sank to peaceful rest, 
Kiss the rosy, fleecy bosom 

Of the cloudland of the west. 

In the Cascade's gentle falling 

There was music to her ear, 
While the thunder's mighty rolling 

Was devoid of every fear; 
And when lightnings play'd around her 

Leaving in their fiery trail 
Heaps of wreck and devastation 

At which weaker hearts would quail. 
She was fearless, bright, and cheerful. 

Trusting that the unseen power 
Of the great and mighty spirit 

Would protect her every hour. 

To the North, amid the timber 

Where the sands were deep and white, 
Roam'd a tribe, rul'd by a Chieftain 

Known to all as Raven Night. 
He was young, and tall, and handsome, 

With an eye as black as coal. 
Which, when tum'd to scrutinize you, 

Pierc'd you to your very soul. 
But with features rightly painted. 

And his headband feather strung, 
He was admiration's picture 

To the aged and the young. 
Neither minded he the weather 

Nor the wild beast crouching near; 
He was courage — daring courage - 

Minus every phase of fear. 

In his tribe was Min-eo-la, 

Who had lov'd him many years. 

Lov'd him with a sweet devotion, 
Lov'd him through foreboding fears; 

But his heart belong'd another, 



Pascagoula 



And he thus unsatisfied, 
Tired of the fond affection 

Of the one he chose as bride; 
And his heart breath'd forth a longing 

For some maiden yet unknown, 
And amid the twilight's gloaming 

Often ponder'd he alone. 

One day in the budding springtime, 
When the breeze was balmy mild, 
And the vvarm congenial sunshine 

Kiss'd to life the flowers wild, 
Raven Night, betook him, straying 
Far and southward from his tent, 
Fill'd with restless fascination, 

— On some unknown errand bent. 
On he plodded, through the timber, 

Cross'd the dells and valleys wide, 
Fording streams whose undulations 

Murmur'd as the ebbing tide. 
In his life, there was a void, 

And his heart was sad and sore, 
And an impulse strange controll'd him 

That had not controll'd before. 
And it drove him, drove him, drove him. 

On and on he knew not where, 

'Mid the birds of brilliant plumage, 

'Mid the flowers scented rare. 

Raptur'd by the vernal scen'ry. 

Little thought he that the day 
Which was waning would but find him 

From his wigwam far away. 
Still the sun was slowly setting. 

And the stars soon twinkling bright, 
Shed their rays of consolation 

On a prodigal that night. 

Flower-strewn, the couch he lay on, 
And the fairies had their say on, 
(While the pale and mellow moonbeams 

Wrapp'd him in a sheen of light); 
And they told him in the morning 
To be going, yet a warning 
Vouch'd they of a southern maiden 

Who would win his heart at sight. 

Then they left him, sweetly sleeping. 
Guarded by the starlings peeping 



Eight Pascagoula 



Through the veil of fleecy cloudland 

Floating in the arched blue. 
He was dreaming, yes, was dreaming 
Of an unknown face, which, seeming 
Mirror'd back the fond emotions 

Of his brave heart, staunch and true. 

Soon, the faint grey of the dawning 

Heralded the coming morning, 

And the Chief refresh'd but yawning 

Rous'd him from his nights repose. 
Sunbeams only shone the brighter, 
Zephyrs blew both soft and lighter, 
And Chief Raven 'though a fighter, 

On a trip with Cupid goes. 

And he swam the river rushing. 
Traveled through the marshes slushing. 
Halted at the fountains gushing 

To refresh his heated brow. 
He was going! going!! going!!! 
Why or where, was not his knowing, 
And the silent zephyrs blowing 

Fann'd him courage then and now. 
To the south arose a hill, 
Where the evening Whippo-will 
Sang its most harmonious trill 

In the twilight's purpling glow. 
Here, the trees grew tail and straight; 
Here, the sunbeams linger'd late; 
Here, the dove coo'd to his mate. 

Near the streamlet's silent flow. 

Thither, Raven wound his way; 
It was near the close of day, 
And the sunset's genial ray 

Mellow'd softer in the west. 
Slow but sure with weary stride, 
Climb'd he up the billet's side, 
Full intending to confide 

To its solitude for rest. 

As he stood after his trip, 

On the billet's utmost tip, 

Viewing all the country 'round 

From the hill range to the sound, 

In the valley lying low 

Where the denser cane-brakes grow, 




i^rni 




^- ' . I, 



RAVEN NIGHT 

But with features rightly painted, 
And his headband feather strung. 

He was admiration's picture 
To the aged and the young. 



d 



i 



Pascagoula 



Nine 



He espied the tented camp 

Of 0-si-ka's tribe on tramp, 

And he watch'd them, 'till the day, 

Waning, pal'd, and died away; 

Then he lay him down to sleep 

In that woodland dense and deep 

Yearning, longing, dreaming there 

Of a maiden young and fair 

With a wealth of raven hair 

Waving in the balmy air 

And whose face of beauty rare 

Any heart-chords would ensnare 

Ere the victim was aware 

Of the how, or when, or where. 

One by one the hours rolled 

Slowly into yesterday; 
One by one the moonbeams chas'd 

Starbeams into mist away. 
One by one the nightingales 

Ceas'd their trills of yester yore 
While a soothing, drowsy peace 

Bath'd the earth from shore to shore. 

Raven, sweetly dreaming there. 
Was not in the least aware 
He was being guarded then 
By the fiercest, bravest men 
Of O-si-ka's tribe of fight, 
Who had spied him ere the night 
Drap'd with sombre curtains grey 
All the portals of the day. 
After 'while the thunderheads 
'Woke from out their slumber beds, 
And went sailing through the sky 
On some rampage far or nigh. 

Stronger blew the rising breeze 
Through the tall and sighing trees; 
While the Ocean's moaning sound 
Echoed all the country 'round. 
Screaming sea gulls frantic flew 
As the wind gusts stronger blew. 
Darker grew the angry clouds 
Draping all the sky like shrouds; 
Then the lightning's vivid flash, 
Follow'd by the thunder's crash 
Shook from off the trembling earth 



Pascagoula 



Every sound or phase of mirtti. 
Trees were twisted by the gale, 
Thresh'd and beat by rain and hail, 
For an hurricane of power 
Held in grasp that wretched hour, 
All the tropic country near, 
Freezing hearts with blighting fear. 
Driving waves, destructive, grand, 
Out upon the wooded land, 
Which, retreating, left to view 
All the havoc, they could do. 

Timber falling here and there, 
Scatter'd debris everywhere; 
Fierce and fiercer wax'd the gale, 
Large and larger grew the hail: 
While the lightning's lurid flash 
Popping as a driver's lash. 
Struck the ground on every hand, 
Moulding glass of melted sand; 
And, the thunder's mighty roar 
Was re-echoed o'er and o'er, 
'Till at last it seem'd to be 
Filling all immensity. 

Raven, waken' d with a start, 
Fear was gnawing at his heart; 
And a limb of timber dead 
In its falling struck his head, 
Felling him upon the ground 
With an ugly, painful wound, 
Where he semi-conscious lay, 
While the storm plough'd on its way, 
Unoppos'd in all its might, 
Through the darkness of the night, 
Leaving in its fearful wake 
Twisted trees it could not break, 
Shredded leaves and shredded flowers 
That bespoke its sovereign powers. 

Summoning his waning powers 
After some unconscious hours. 
Raven thought to start his way 
Ere should fully dawn the day, 
O'er the hills and valleys wide. 
Up the rolling mountain side. 
Where the tribe he'd left behind, 
In their leisure sweet reclin'd. 



Pascagoula 



But, O-si-ka's warrior's bold 
Seiz'd him with their mighty hold, 
Seiz'd and held him as a clasp 
In their unrelenting grasp. 

He for lack of blood and food, 
Fainted at their conduct rude. 
And was borne by warriors bold 
To O-si-ka's wigwam old, 
Where the Chief in cheerful glee 
Sentenc'd him, without a plea. 
To a death by arrow's dart 
Piercing midway through his heart. 

Chief O-si-ka's tribe was small, 
Scarce two hundred all in all, 
While the band of Raven Night 
Was an awe-inspiring sight; 
For his men were large and straight. 
And from morn 'till evening late, 
Tramp'd the hills and plains for game 
(And they brought it when they came) 
Bent the bow and forceful shot, 
Missing seldomly the spot; 
Playing games that Indians play, 
Saying things that Indians say. 

Grudges long have sway'd the heart. 

And from them man won't depart, 

'Till he opens to that love 

Ruling all the spheres above. 

That alone, can save his soul 

From their devastating goal; 

And, O-si-ka, strong of mind, 

Yielded to his thoughts unkind, 

Letting his malicious heart 

Unrestrained, act its part; 

For in years not distant born, 

On a chill December mom, 

Chief O-si-ka thought to spy 

The adjacent country nigh; 

And he ventur'd far away, 

Much too far for just a day. 

And a band of warriors bold 

Saw and chas'd him through the cold, 

Up the billet's timber'd side, 

Down and through the valleys wide. 

In the streams and then across, 

Through festooning Spanish moss. 



Twelve 



Pascagoula 



Through palmetto, vine and weed, 
Gallop'd he on foaming steed 
'Till he reach'd the bottom land, 
Growing reed-cane tall and grand; 
There, he hid him out of sight 
'Till the brooding folds of night 
Shielded him and bade him go 
On his journey safe but slow. 

It was Raven's fighting men | 

Who had chas'd him thus, and, when ] 

Chief O-si-ka held their Chief j 

It afforded him relief j 

To condemn him quick to die 'j 

Ere the moon forsook the sky, — ] 

For an Indian ne'er forgives \ 
Any enemy that lives. 

Raven thought he plainly saw, j 

As he lay upon the straw ■ 

That his days were near an end, i 

And he long'd to make amend,— ■ 

For, a tender heart benight'd, j 

For a fair young life he'd blight'd, ^ 
For the vows of love he'd plight'd 

To his Min-e-o-la fair. ! 

He, of heart love, cold had theft her j 
And his action had bereft her 
Of her reason; thus, he left her 

On the brink of grim despair. ] 

Min-e-o-la lov'd Chief Raven 

With a heart as true as steel, j 

But he only thought he lov'd her, I 

Never truly did he feel i 
At her heart's shrine he could worship. 

And at others never kneel. i 

Raven lay upon the ground, 

He was most securely bound, j 

And his fever flushed cheek j 

Plainly told him growing weak. 

And, his tired weary brain 

Dream'd of mountain, hill, and plain; 

Dream'd of Min-e-o-la who i 

To his love had proven true; j 

Dream'd of streamlets rushing by | 

From their source in Mountain high; ! 

Dream'd he saw the cascades fall | 

From the rocky ledges tall; l 




RAVEN'S DREAM 



He was dreaming, yes, was dreaming 
Of an unknown face, which seeming 
Mirror'd back the fond emotions 

Of his brave heart, staunch and true. 



Pascagoula 



Thirteen 



Dream'd he saw the murm'ring stream 

Flowing gently as a dream; 

Dream'd he saw his own canoe 

Sprinkled with the morning's dew, 

Floating in the waters blue, 

Hidden for the time from view 

By the underbrush which grew, 

From the river's caving edge 

Back upon the sandy ledge; 

Dream'd he drank from bubbling spring; 

Dream'd he heard the bluebirds sing; 

He of thirst was parching there. 

Dreaming dreams of beauty rare. 

Dreaming life was but a play 

From the dawning of the day 

Until nighthood's shades of deep 

Lull'd the weary ones to sleep. 

Pas-ca-gou-la, passing near, 
Chanc'd his feeble groan to hear, 
Saw him lying, bleeding there 
In the noon day's sunny glare, 
And she knew he was to die, 
Ere the May moon left the sky, 
By a rough and jagged dart 
Piercing deep into his heart; 
And she said with bated breath, 
"I must save him from this death." 
For she lov'd him then and there; 
Strok'd his tangled raven hair; 
Sooth'd the tired, fever'd brow; 
Cool'd by zephyrs then and now; 
Bath'd his lips with water cool 
From the clear, fresh, mossy pool; 
Sought at once her father dear, 
With a quaking heart of fear, 
And besought him on her knees 
That he once his daughter please; 
And let Raven live until 
He could once express his will. 
Maybe he had run away 
From his tribe and meant to stay; 
Maybe he would then decide 
With 0-si-ka to reside; 
But 0-si-ka shook his head 
And these meaning words he said, 
"I will never cease to dread 
Until Raven Night is dead." 



Pascagoula 



Pas-ca-gou-la that May day 
Did not take her father's nay! 
But she took him by the hands, 
Saying, "Father, thy commands 
I have ever sought to do, 
And you know that I love you, 
I your life, with joy do fill, 
Never have I cross'd your will, 
But dear father once for me 
Show a little sympathy. 
And let Raven live a week. 
That he chance a word to speak. 
Guard him by our trusted men, 

That he cannot get away; 
Double guard him through the night, 

Single guard him through the day.' 
Then she took her leave to go, 
In her usual manner slow. 
Saying, "Father, let me know. 
As the day will older grow. 
Raven Night may live a week, 
That he have a chance to speak." 

Then, she left him standing where 
Gusts of balmy, flagrant air 
Sway'd his locks of braided hair 
In the sunlight warm and fair. 
He was wondering if he 
Should revoke severity. 
And let Pas-ca-gou-la's whim 
Take advantage full of him. 
All she ask'd for, was a week, 
"That he have a chance to speak," 
And with warbucks guarding near, 
There was not slightest fear 
He could chance to steal away 
'Twix'd the sunset and the day. 
And he reason'd in his mind 
That for once, he would be kind 
And would grant the slight request 
Of the one he lov'd the best. 
Yet, he felt "I'll always dread 
Until Raven Night is dead, 
For I feel I'll some day be 
Punish'd by his treachery." 

In O-si-ka's tribe full small, 
Dwelt a handsome warbuck tall. 



Pascagoula 



Fifteen 



He of fearless father came; 
Os-ce-o-la was his name. 
He had won renown and fame, 
As a slayer of the game 
And a faithful hunter who 
Never miss'd a mark he knew. 
Often he would bend his bow,. 
Twang the string and let it go. 
And his arrows, forceful shot, 
Always hit a vital spot. 
Much of game, and bear, and deer, 
Fell with Os-ce-o-la near; 
And he knew the country 'round 
From the hill range to the sound, 
Knew where brambles thickest grew, 
Knew where berries cluster'd blue. 
Knew where Raven's mighty men 
Came and dwelt, and went again, 
Knew where game did much abound. 
Knew where fishes could be found 
In profusion, great and small, 
From the Springtime 'till the Fall; 
Knew where varmint, beast and bird 
Chose the wintry months to herd. 

If he found a squirrel spry 
Oft' he shot it through the eye: 
He could hit a blue bird small 
In its quick descending fall. 
Once to show what he could do, 
In his tribal comrades view, 
Shot a blushing berry red 
Off an Indian Maiden's head; 
Whereupon 0-si-ka old, 
Gave to him a ring of gold; 
Rais'd his hand and firmly said, 
"He's your chief when I am dead" 
"And my only child," said he, 
"Willingly I give to thee, 
As a faithful loving wife. 
To abide you through this life. 
You may take her on the day 
I, in dying, pass away." 

Os-ce-o-la from that hour 
Exercis'd his every power 
Pas-ca-gou-la's hand to claim, 
For to wed her was his aim, 



Sixteen Pascagoula 



And he dream'd of her by night, \ 

'Neath the twinkling heaven's bright, 

And his thoughts of her by day j 

Drove all other thoughts away; 1 

But she never seem'd to care ] 

For his pledges plighted fair. 

He could unmistaking see, ! 

She sought not his company, 

And her actions fiU'd his heart 

With a lover's jealous dart. 

Scarce left she her Father's tent 
Unless on some mission bent, 
Or to wander 'mid the ilowers 
Through the scent'd leafy bowers, 
Where the whistling mocking bird, 
In his sweetest notes was heard; 
Yet, through all, he lov'd her still. 
As a man so often will, 
For he saw her in the rill, 
And when twilight's whippo-will 
Sang its farewell evening trill 
From across the wooded hill, 
In its notes of melody 
He could sense a sympathy. 
For it seem'd sometimes to say, 
"You will live to see the day 
When sweet Pas-ca-gou-la fair, 
With her wealth of raven hair, 
Will not with disdainful air 
Fill your life with deep dispair. 
But cloth'd in her beauty rare 
She will lift all blighting care 
From your heart, and bid you live 
In the lovelight she can give." 
Then, alas! The spell would break, 

Then, his fearful heart would quake, ; 

And distressing dreams would roll 
Surging through his longing soul. 
Then, the future painted he 

Fill'd with lonesome misery. I 

\ 

Once he gather'd roses wild, 
Growing where the breezes mild 
Fann'd their cheeks from early mom 

Until evening dewdrop born ! 

Kiss'd the sand and dust away, 

From their petals pink and gay, i 

I 



Pascagoula 



And he tied them with a bow 
Of Palmettoes white, which grow^ 
All the plains and valleys o'er, 
In the swamps and on the shore, 
And with twinkle in his eye 
Pass'd he Pas-ca-gou-Ia by, 
And with a smile as sweetly giv'n 
As if newly born from heaven, 
Plac'd the boquet on the breast 
Of the one he lov'd the best, 
She receiv'd them in her style 
With a smile, — a modest smile. 

Once, he took the ring of gold 

That O-si-ka gave to him. 
And in manner suave, but bold 
Plac'd it on her finger slim; 
But she in a manner cold 

Slipp'd it off her finger trim, 
Handing it right back to him. 
Then, she turning quickly went 
To her father's welcome tent. 
Where with light'd kindling wood 
She prepar'd their evening food. 

Os-ce-o-la's longing heart 
Never ceas'd its wooing part; 
Many times he cast his eye 
T'ward the blue etherial sky. 
And in visions of the air 
Painted Pas-ca-gou-la there, 
Seated on a rosy cloud, 
Cloth'd in beauty's fairest shroud, 
With a radiant, smiling face 
— Angel of his waning race; 
And when Os-ce-o-la heard 
Pas-ca-gou-la spoke a word 
In behalf of Raven Night, 
All his soul was in a fright, 
And he jealous grew at sight, 
And he long'd for blood, and fight. 
With Chief Raven ere the night 
Blotted out the fading light. 

And he rush'd to warbucks grim 
Saying, "Let's away with him. 
For when he will stronger feel. 
He away from us will steal, 



Eiehtcen Pascogoula 



And with all his mighty men 
Will return to us again, 
Kill or carry one and all 
To his land of timber tall, 
Pas-ea-gou-la will go too 
Home with him, his will to do, 
For I feel she loves to day 
Raven in her cunning way. 
And will love him all the more 
When the summer days are o'er. 
I will someday be your chief, 
And 'twill be to her relief, 
As she does not love me here, 
To go with him over there. 
And be chief-sqiiaw of a tribe 
I for numbers can't describe. 
Chief 0-si-ka, said that she. 
Mine in future was to be. 
She is mine, and cannot go 
To his land, for well I know 
I will surely Raven kill 
Ere the sun sets o'er the hill. 
Whoop! The day is growing late. 
Why should we the longer wait? 
Raven Night shall surely die 
E'er the moon climbs up the sky; 
Will you stand warbucks with me 
I your future Chief to be?" 

And they all did loud acclaim 

"Raven's death, shall be our aim." 

And to Chief O-si-ka's tent 

Ran they on their mission bent; 

How the young bloods caught the fire! 

Rais'd their voices high and higher 

'Till the woods for miles around 

Rank with warwhoop's weird sound; 

How they thirsted for the breath. 

For the life, and for the death 

Of a wounded Indian wild 

Lying helpless as a child! 

And they push'd into the tent, 

Ask'd O-si-ka to relent, 

And bring forth Chief Raven Night, 

That he have a chance to fight 

With a rough and flinty knife 

Os-ce-o-la for his life; 

Raven lay upon the ground. 

Weak and bleeding from his wound, 



Pascagoula 



Nineteen 



And could scarcely lift a hand, 

Much less walk, or fight, or stand; 

And 0-si-ka's ruling word 

At this moment firm was heard: 

"I have promis'd her a week, 

That he have a chance to speak." 

"But," said they, "Our Chieftain, you 

Know what Raven Night will do 

Should he chance to get away 

'Twixt the twilight and the day; 

He would surely come again 

With his eager fighting men, 

And would kill you with his knife. 

Claim your daughter as his wife, 

Butcher men, and capture all 

Of the squaws and papoose small." 

When 0-si-ka heard their reason, 
Arguments were out of season, 
So he said, "My daughter, I 
Must your one request deny, 
For my men have shown to me 
What the fearful cost might be 
Should this pris'ner get away 
As the moonbeams tender play; 
And, you know in seasons past 
As a damp and chilling blast 
Swept the land from shore to shore, 
Turning many wigwams o'er 
I was riding through the sand, 
Spying out a better land 
When the band of Raven Night 
Coming, gave me such a fright 
Chasing me for many miles 
Through the thick, untroden wilds, 
And if they had caught me there. 
You would never known the where 
Or the how your father died 
In those marshes wild and wide. 
Will he die? why, yes, he'll die. 
Ere the stars shine out on high. 
By a sharp and flinty dart 
Piercing midway through his heart. 

Who will now perform the task, 
Is a question I will ask? 
I'm too old to shoot a dart 
Strong enough to reach his heart." 



Twenty 



Pascagoula 



All the warbucks answer'd, "I," 
Each with each did strongly vie 
For the honor pending nigh. 

Chief 0-si-ka caught a bee, 

Went and pinn'd it on a tree. 

"Take your bows and shoot," said he, 

"And whoever kills the bee 

May shoot Raven through the heart 

With a new made flinty dart." 

Many shot and many miss'd 

Some applauded, others hiss'd, 

But when Os-ce-o-la shot, 

He as usual hit the spot, 

Cut the buzzing bee in half. 

Causing loud and boistrous laugh. 

And he claim'd the right to kill 

Raven Night to suit his will. 

While the warbucks shot the mark, 

Pas-ca-gou-la, pull'd the bark 

Off a tough old Elm tree 

Dead and standing near the sea, 

And she hid it, 'neath the fold 

Of her garment, so I'm told. 

Raven Night was carried out 
By the warbucks young and stout; 
Then they tied him to a tree, 
(He was weak as he could be), 
And could hardly stand alone, 
(Though to do so he was prone). 

Pas-ca-gou-la coming near 
Seem'd his fainting heart to cheer. 
And she stood there while the Chief 
Pinn'd upon his chest a leaf, 
That hung in a manner smart 
O'er the region of his heart. 
And if struck by arrow shot 
Would but prove the vital spot. 

Soon the tribe all circled 'round, 
Soon the arrow new was found. 
And the victor quick began 
For the killing of his man, 
Pas-ca-gou-la, all the while 
Stood by Raven with a smile 




mmu- 




EXECUTION 



Pas-ca-gou-la. all the while 
Stood hy Raven with a smile 
With her hand, so I am told, 
On the rough bark, dry and mold. 



Pascagoula 



Twenty-one 



Playing o'er her features mild 
In those tangled regions wild, 
With her hand, so I am told, 
On the rough bark, dry and mold, 
Hidden 'neath the hiding fold 
Of her garment loose and old. 

As a mocker faintly sang, 

Sharp she heard the bow-string twang, 

And before they scarce could see 

She impulsive, instantly 

Drew the bark from out the fold 

Of her roomy garment old, 

Which she thrust o'er Raven's heart 

And caught firm the flinty dart. 

Which sank deep into the bark. 

Missing once its fatal mark. 

Quick she seiz'd the arrow's staff 

Chuckling to herself a laugh. 

Held it in defiant way, 

Holding all the crowd at bay. 

And she stood by Raven Night 

Full determin'd there to fight. 

And to plunge the flinty dart 

Into Os-ce-o-la's heart 

And he dar'd to harm a hair 

Of the pris'ner fainting there; 

Chief O-si-ka knew full well 
He'd be wasting time to tell 
Pas-ca-gou-Ia she could go 
From the man she worshipp'd so. 
So he call'd the warbucks 'round, 
Bade them sit upon the ground. 
Told them what he had to say 
In a straight, commanding way; 
Saying Raven Night could live 
Just one week, and then he'd give 
Os-ce-o-la leave to kill 
Raven Night to suit his will. 

Os-ce-o-la said that he 

Would abide the Chief's decree, 

But a guard must guard him right, 

Two by day and three by night; 

And they guarded him that way 

Through the night and through the day. 



Twenty-two 



Pascaguola 



Pas-ca-gou-la frequent there 

Manifested patient care, 

In the wounded pris'ner who 

Knew not what to say or do; 

Fed him many times a day 

In her own peculiar way 

On what food she could command 

Dress'd by her own cautious hand. 

Os-ce-o-la's jealous heart 
Made him doubly play his part, 
For he wanted Raven Night 
Out of camp and out of sight, 
And he car'd not how he died. 
So he deadly poison tried. 

Out he strode into the wood, 
Kiil'd a deer large, fat, and good, 
Dress'd the juicy, tender meat 
In a tempting manner neat. 
Then he went and cut a pole 
Growing near the fishing hole, 
Tied to it the choicest steak. 
Hunted till he found a snake, 
And he often pok'd the steak 
In the face of hissing snake. 
Until deadly rattlesnake 
Many times had bit the steak. 
Then the steak he broiled rare, 
Brought it to the maiden fair, 
And requested that she feed 
Raven Night as was his need; 
"For it be against his will 
Any hungry man to kill." 

Pas-ca-gou-la took the broil. 

Laid it gently on the soil, 

And remark'd, "that she would feed 

Raven Night as was his need." 

In her heart she seem'd to know 

Os-ce-o-la as a foe. 

And she knew, that, jealous, he 

Would resort to treachery. 

So she said, "I first must eat 

Of this choicest bit of meat," 

And with knife of flinty stone 

Cut a slice from near the bone, 

And was just about to eat. 

Of the tempting, juicy meat 



Pascaguola 



Twenty-three 



When, though young in point of age, 
Os-ce-o-la, full of rage, 
Snatch' d the meat from out her hand. 
Threw it down upon the sand, 
For a while upon it stood. 
Then he kick'd it in the wood, 
For he knew that he was caught 
And his plans had come to naught. 
So he boldly strode around. 
Stamping firmly on the ground, 
Then toward Raven bent his walk. 
In his hand his tomahawk; 
He was boiling o'er with rage. 
Much too much for one his age. 

Pas-ca-gou-la knew that he, 
Fill'd with lover's jealousy, 
Would kill Raven, if he could. 
So she ran to where he stood. 
Took her bow and took her stand, 
With an arrow in her hand, 
While her meaning, flashing eye 
Spoke no act she would deny 
To award the pris'ner there 
Personal protecting care. 

Os-ce-o-la knew that she 
Was a shot as well as he, 
And determin'd as could be 
When arous'd through jealousy; 
So he paus'd his onward walk, 
Plac'd his stony tomahawk, 
Underneath the rawhide pelt. 
Feather-strung he used as belt. 
Morn and evening died away, 
Then was born another day. 
And with each succeeding dew 
Raven Night t!ie stronger grew. 

Soon would pass the week away, 
Soon would come the fatal day 
When the soul of Raven Night 
Would take its eternal flight 
Where the game did much abound. 
And were tame and easy found. 
Where the winds were never cold. 
Where the natives grew not old. 
Where the flowers never die. 
Where the storm-clouds of the sky 



Twenty-four 



Pascagoula 



Never came, but sunbeams fair 
Drove disorders far from there. 
And the blossoms fill'd the air 
With their redolescence rare. 

Chief O-si-ka ask'd if he 
One of them would constant be, 
But he simply shook his head 
Speaking not a word instead. 
"Well, then," said O-si-ka nigh, 
"On the morrow you shall die. 
I have given you a week 
That you have a chance to speak, 
And I ask you once again. 
In the presence of these men, 
Will you stay or will you go? 
Speak and tell us, yes or no!" 
But he only look'd away 
At the sun's declining ray. 
Seeming, not the least to care 
Who was speaking to him there; 
Heeded not 0-si-ka's voice, 
Who had given him his choice. 
And was seeking then, to please 
Pas-ca-gou-la on her knees. 

Pas-ca-gou-la sought to save 
Raven from a captive's grave. 
Well she knew, O-si-ka old. 
With his heart of stony mold 
Never would consent to give 
Raven Night a chance to live; 
Unless he would join their band 
In their own fair native land. 

Something must be quickly done 

If the vict'ry would be won. 

For in just another day, 

Ere the sunbeams died away. 

Raven Night would surely die 

Shot by Os-ce-o-la nigh. 

As the eve was passing by, 

Pas-ca-gou-la with a sigh, 

Rambled far into the wood 

Searching there as best she could 

For a wanted herbage green 

Which was scarce and seldom seen. 

Not another of the tribe 

Could this slumber plant describe, 



Pascagoula 



Twenty-five 



But a squaw of olden days 

Had reveal'd to her its ways, 

And remark'd in thoughtless chat 

Of its virtues, saying that, 

"Once a victim of its powers 

One would pleasant sleep for hours. 

Pas-ca-gou-la waded through 
Underbrush and brambles too, 
Searching 'round for weary hours, 
'Mid the thick festooning bowers, 
"Till at last she found a weed 
Laden'd with a pod of seed 
Which she gather'd and away, 
Near the closing of the day. 

After long and tedious tramp 
Pas-ca-gou-la reach'd the camp. 
But the weed was hidden well, 
(Where she hid it none can tell), 
But she hid it, so I'm told, 
'Neath the well secluding fold 
Of her garment neat but old, 
Worth to her its weight in gold, 
As a place to hide the weed 
And its sleep producing seed. 

Soon the sun sank in the west; 
Soon the song-birds went to rest ; 
Soon the twinkling stars of night. 
Shed their soft'ning rays of light 
O'er the hills and valleys wide 
And upon the Ocean's tide. 

Pas-ca-gou-la all the while. 
Smiling to herself a smile, 
Made a most delicious potion 
Made entirely to her notion. 
And into this potion mild, 
Mix'd her seed of herbage wild, 
Pour'd it into earthern bowls, 
Hung it o'er the glowing coals 
Where she let it cook until 
All the sleeping camp was still 

Near the center of the night, 
By the moonbeam's mellow light. 



Twenty-six 



Pascagoula 



Pas-ca-gou-la rose to feed 
Raven Night on Oola* feed, 
Which contain'd the herb and seed 
Of the soothing "Slumber Weed." 
It was tasteless, none could tell 
It was there by taste or smell. 
But the Oola she had made 
In the twilight's lulling shade 
Was perfum'd by leaves of Bay, 
Gather'd in the month of May, 
And it 'woke the appetite 
Of the guards that balmy night 
As its odor fill'd the air 
With its perfume rich and rare 
Which made hunger hungry grow 
As they smell'd it once or so. 

Raven Night had been well told 
Just to take the bowl and hold 
To his lips, till guards would think 
He had ample time to drink; 
Then, to let his drink bowl fall 
As if weakness caus'd it all. 
When the Oola would be spill'd 
As his nurse had full well will'd, 

After she had Raven fed. 
Lying on his grassy bed, 
She went to the guards and said, 
"I have Oola left for you 
If you'd like a drink or two, 
And she brought and set it down 
'Mid the three, all sitting 'round, 
Smoking pipes and sniffing air 
Perfum'd by the Oola rare. 

They had many times before 
Drank the Oola she did pour. 
And they saw the pris'ner there 
Quaff it with a trustful air. 
And they reason'd, "If he drink, 
It is healthful, do we think 
Pas-ca-gou-la fair to sight, 
Would do harm to Raven Night?" 
So they drank it, — every drop — 
Ere they did their drinking stop — 



* The potion made by Pas-ca-gou-la. 



Pascagoula 



Twenty-seven 



And they relish'd with delight 
Every drop they drank that night. 

Soon, they all most pleasant grew, 
As the winged moments flew; 
Soon, they felt a lulling peace 
Bid their present sorrows cease, 
Each one felt his being fill 
With a sweet benumbing 'till 
All was but a land of dreams, — 
Airy, fairy, blissful dreams, — 
Where a man, though kept for aye 
Would but long another day, 
That he dream a little more 
Ere his blissful dreams were o'er. 

Raven Night with wakeful care 
Feign'd asleep and resting there; 
For he thought to steal away 
Ere was born his fatal day; 

While the guards in slumber lay, 

Pas-ca-gou-la went her way 

Up the valley slightly rais'd 

Where the ponies nightly graz'd 

And she rop'd the fastest two, 

Those whose speed she'd tried and knew. 

Then she brought and tied them well 

In the thicket in the dell. 

Then she went to Raven bound, 

Lying helpless on the ground, 

Rent asunder all his bands 

With her small but nimble hands. 

Then, she help'd him to his feet, 

Bidding him with her retreat 

To the dell where horses stood 

Tied with bark of Elm wood. 

There, she help'd him in his need 
Mount his restless vv^aiting steed. 
Then she nimbly jump'd astride 
Of her pony, "Silverside" 
Riding off through dismal wood 
Just as quickly as she could, 
While the steed which Raven rode 
Right behind her pacing strode. 
In her hand, she held the bow 
And the arrow which you know 



Twenty-eight 



Pascagoula 



Os-ce-o-la shot to kill , 

Raven Night as was his will; 

While the sleeping guards behind 

Dream'd their dreams with peaceful mind. ; 

On and on throughout the night ,; 

Rode they, 'till the dawning light I 

Found them many miles away i 

From the scenes of yesterday: | 

Found them in a forest old ' 

Carpeted with leafy mould; 

Found them where the brambles green ; 

Wrapp'd them in their hiding sheen, i 

Wrapp'd, and kept them out of sight i 

'Till the coming of the night i 

Bade them on their journey go | 

Through a land she did not know; ^ 

But she trusted Raven Night i 

In the guiding of their flight. 

And directed he the way i 

Where his tribe in leisure lay. 

In the tribe of Raven Night, 

Min-e-o-la dream'd aright; i 

That her lover, wounded lay 

In a land near by the Bay, 

And she dreamed an Indian maid >\ 

Of a most entrancng shade, j 

Tender nurs'd him back to life, • 

Whom he loving sought as wife. 

It was such a vivid dream, 

That she woke with piercing scream 

That awoke the squaws, and men, [ 

Who rush'd 'round her quick, and then : 

Dipp'd her in the chilling creek 

That the evil spirit speak 

Who they thought seiz'd on her tight i 

In the denser folds of night. \ 

On they rode another night 

In their unarrest'd flight, ; 

Rode while tender moonbeams pale j 

Softly lighted hill and dale, : 

Rode while starbeams fondly kiss'd 

In the blue etherial mist, , 

Rode the hours slow away, 

And the cool grey streaks of day 

Found them, 'Mid Chief Raven't tribe, j 

Which no pen can .lust describe. j 



Pascagoula 



Twenty-nine 



Quick, the tribe all gather'd 'round, 

Squatting down upon the ground, 

They were glad, yes, wildly glad, 

Yet was Min-e-o-la sad; 

For she knew the dream she had 

— That which almost drove her mad, — 

Was the truth, for standing there 

Was the maiden young and fair. 

Who had won Chief Raven's heart, 

Won and kept it from the start. 

Yet she never cried a cry. 

Neither sigh'd she once a sigh, 

Yet within her inmost soul 

Did an impulse, mighty, roll, 

And she felt the stinging thrash 

Of her ruling passion's lash; 

Yet controll'd herself so well, 

No one could her feelings tell. 

She was jealous as could be. 
Almost to insanity, 
But no one this truth could tell 
She behav'd herself so well; 
Yet, her heart died then and there, 
And her soul fill'd with despair. 
When she saw the maiden come, 
Bringing wounded Raven home; 
And from thence her greatest joy 
Was the thought, "I will destroy 
Raven Night whose love for me, 
Growing less, has ceas'd to be, 
And his life I constant crave, 
'Till he lies within the grave." 

Pas-ca-gou-la spent the day 

In a most unpleasant way. 

Though the warbucks and the squaws 

Minister'd her every cause 

Still she knew what awful fate 

Did for her at home await. 

So she ate as best she could 

Game fresh slaughtered in the wood. 

And agreed with Raven Night 

To defer her homeward flight 

'Till the rosy gates of morn 

Spoke another day just born. 

As the evening shades drew nigh 
Pas-ca-gou-la heav'd a sigh. 



Thirty Pascagoula 

Shading shadows fast did roll 
In upon her inmost soul 
'Till she felt she must away 
Ere the dawning of the day. 
So when nighthood kiss'd the hill, 
And the sleeping camp was still 
Pas-ca-gou-la 'rose and crept 
S'oftly by where sentries slept 
Down to where her Silverside 
And O-te-ka both were tied. 

Loosing them, she leap'd astride 
Of her pony Silverside, 
Making off as best she could 
Through the tangled, pathless wood; 
And O-te-ka — though untied — 
Pac'd behind her Silverside. 

On she rode throughout the night, 
Through the long entire night. 
Rode with all her haste and might, 
Swerving neither left nor right, 
And when sunbeams warm and bright 
Fill'd the earth with living light, 
She was many miles away 
From the camp of yesterday. 
And was lost, yes, hopeless lost, 
As a ship tempestuous toss'd 
On a rough and trackless sea 
Bounded by immensity. 

Halting in a valley wide, 
For a rest, after her ride. 
She dismounted to the groimd. 
Left her horses grazing 'round, 
And betook her to a pool 
Drinking of its waters cool. 
There she stay'd a little long 
List'ning to a mocker's song, 
That to her own great surprise 
Seem'd with her to sympathize; 
And returning late, she found 
Silverside was no where round, 
And O-te-ka too had gone 
With him leaving her alone; 
Lost, and helpless as a child 
In those pathless regions wild, 
With no friends near, save the bird 
Whose entrancing song she heard; 



Pascagoula 



Thirty-one 



And the clear spring, bubbling cool. 
From the bottom of the pool. 

Sitting down to meditate 

In a manner most sedate, 

She began to realize 

How her acts look to the eyes 

Of her Father, and the tribe 

Whose grave thoughts I can't describe. 

As the day grew on apace, 

Tears bedew'd her anxious face. 

"They will only think of me 

In this manner," slow said she, 

"That I left my father's home. 

With another chief to roam 

That I violated laws 

Of the tribe, without a cause 

Save the cause of love for him 

Whom, they hate with venom's vim," 

And she knew the penalty 

For her grievous perfidy 

Was. — "Each foot be firmly tied 

To a horse, then pull'd astride 

Of a flint 'till split in two 

By the horses tried and true; 

Then deserted — left to die — 

Victim of the ant and fly." 

Meditating on this theme, 
Life became a senseless dream; 
Men and women seem'd to be 
Creatures all of misery; 
Singing birds and blooming flowers 
Were mere mockers of the hours; 
All was chaos, all was strife, 
Without love or hope of life. 
Eagerly she pull'd her hair 
Gnash'd her teeth in wild despair, 
While protruding eyeballs peer'd 
At the forms which at her jeer'd 
And the nails of clenched hands 
Cut her flesh as iron bands. 

In her heart she felt desire. 
To destroy with flaming fire 
Everything, — both man and beast, — 
From the greatest to the least; 



Thirty-two 



Pascagoula 



Felt desire to flee and scream, 
Plunge beneath the surging stream, 
Snatch the boughs from growing trees, 
Beat to pulp the rising breeze; 
Cut and kill and drink the blood, 
As a most delicious food, — 
Felt her brain all in a whirl, 
With her thoughts all in a twirl, 
How she longing, long'd to die, 
Yet death hover'd no where nigh. 
She was mad, insanely mad, 
With enraged temper bad. 
And she wander'd seven days 
Through the woods in unknown ways 
Without tasting drink or food 
As she rambled through the wood; 
Night to her lost every fear. 
Daylight lost its every care, 
Life was but a listless dream, 
— Just a vague, uncertain dream. 



When the ponies trotted home, 

After days of ceaseless roam; 

Chief 0-si-ka knew that she 

Must returning homeward be. 

So he sent his fleetest men 

That they search for her again. 

And if found, they bind her well, 

Bear her home that he might tell 

Her the tribe will have her die 

Ere the moon fulls in the sky. 

And they left at early morn, 

— Ere the day was hardly born. 

And they rambled far and near, 

List'ning with attentive ear, 

For a sigh or other sound 

That the winds might whisper 'round. 

But no trace of her was found 

'Till they reach'd a timber'd mound; 

There from elevation high 

Os-ce-o-la saw her nigh. 

Mad, and raving as a beast 

On a plain just lying East, 

And the company of three 

Stole upon her silently. 

Caught, and bound with rawhide bands 

Both her feet, and both her hands. 



Pascagoula 



Thirty-three 



How she fought them then and there! 
How she scream'd in her despair! 
While her tangled raven hair 
Show'd its lack of usual care. 
Hard she fought as best she could, 
While the v/arbucks 'round her stood. 
Holding her a pris'ner there 
Subject to their ruthless care, 
All her struggles were in vain, 
As her strength was on the wane. 
And she faint'd to the ground, 
Near the thickly timber'd mound. 
There she all unconscious lay 
At the closing of the day. 

Soon the warbucks, three, astir, 
In their strength, quick lifted her 
On the back of S'ilverside 
There they bound her, firmly tied, 
With their new cut rawhide bands, 
Cut in strong but narrow strands 
And began their homeward tramp 
Through the evening twilight damp. 

Long and rough their journey lay 
O'er the rambling, winding way. 
Through the brush and brambles green, 
Through the tallest timber seen. 
Through the darkness of the night. 
Without aid of guiding light. 

And they travel'd in this way 
'Till the dawning of the day. 
Os-ce-o-la rode ahead 
While a second, firmly led 
Silverside; and, number three 
Rode behind, a guard to be. 

Through the long and dreary night 
Pas-ca-gou-la scream'd with fright. 
For she seem'd to realize 
She was in the hands of spies 
Who would love to see her die 
On the feast day drawing nigh. 
Then she'd seem to nothing know. 
Then, she'd try her boat to row, 
Then she'd laugh, and then she'd cry. 
Then she'd long again to die. 



Tliirty-four 



Pascagoula 



Then she'd sing this little song, 
Through the dreary moments long: 
"I love him who loveth me 
Dwelling northward from the sea," 
After which, she'd quiet grow 
Half way seeming things to know, 
Then she'd quick begin to hum. 
Wild in her delirium. 



Os-ce-o-la heard her song, 
As they journey'd slow along. 
And he knew she sang of him 
Whom he hated with such vim, 
And who yet he hop'd to kill 
In a way to suit his will; 
And he all the madder grew 
As they homeward nearer drew; 
And he vow'd by might and main. 
If he ever saw again, 
Raven Night, he'd "Shoot a dart 
Deep into his hated heart." 

Careful rode they through the night. 
And the dawning of the light 
Found them near the tented camp 
Of 0-si-ka's tribe on tramp; 
Found them near their Chieftain old, 
With a heart of stony mold, 
Who had never, never known 
What it was to weep or mourn; 
Who could shoot a flinty dart 
Deep into a human heart, 
And if need be drink their blood 
As it gush'd in crimson flood. 

In his heart, there was no fear. 
In his life there was no care. 
And he only sought to live 
That in living he might give 
To the one who crossed his way 
Trouble both by night and day. 

When the Chief look'd on the face 
Of that remnant of his race. 
And saw eyes protruding stare 
At some object in the air. 
Heard her faint cry of alarm 
At imaginary harm. 



Pascagoula 



Thirty-five 



Saw her form so waste and thin, 

With a faint smile now and then, 

Playing o'er the features wild 

Of his now dement'd child; 

Just for once he felt his heart 

From its nature cold depart; 

And he order'd she be fed. 

Given drink and put to bed, 

— 'Though the first impulse he felt 

Was to take from out his belt 

His much trusted hunting knife 

And bleed out her waning life; 

For he knew the tribe would claim 

She had forfeited her name 

And the custom long had been. 

From beginning, down to then, 

That when either squaw or man 

Quit the tribe or from it ran. 

And was captur'd, quick should be 

Tortur'd most severely; 

Then each foot be firmly tied. 

To a horse, then, pulled astride 

Of a flint 'till cut in two 

By the horses one and two. 

And he knew his daughter there. 

Still to him all that v/as fair. 

Would be call'd upon to go 

Through his painful torture slo\r, 

And as chief, he must uphold 

Tribal law in manner bold. 

So he call'd to council then. 

All the squaws as well as men, 

And before them laid her case, 

Hiding every tinge or trace 

Of emotion's saving grace 

Finding in his heart a place. 

Os-ce-o-la, young and brave, 

Was destin'd her life to save; 

So he pleaded with the men, 

With the Chief, the squaws, and then 

Pleaded that at least they give 

Her another moon to live; 

"For," said he, 'twill be too kind 

If we kill her out of mind 

She has violated laws 

And must suffer, for this cause. 

And to suffer she must be 

In her conscious mind," said he; 



Pascagoula 



For he lov'd yes, loVd her still 
And. a5 loTers al^rays tstIL 

He detenniii'd ihere to are 
Pas-ca-goa-la rrom ite grave. 
If TO sare her te musi kill 
ETery one ^to cross' d Ms vilL 

So by wori of srraie^y- , 

He preraHe-f. entirely, \ 

And iJie tribe did cc-nseni riTe 
TzSiZ sle have a il:»c- "o live." 

Ai tie cajs ^en: slowly by. ' 

Os-ce— c-la sGn.£iii zo szj , 

TliroiLgli the trTZ'e. ani fni o^: ^ho 

Woiild be -virillijig :: 

For one time, iheir - r-~^ 

?^s-ca-goi2-la leare to iiTe: 

Fcr her acts gave eTldence 

Of renzmine to her sense; 

And their la »- coold not he changd 

While a Toice against it rang-'d 

And throigh years niichaiig'd it siixvi 

They c-3'zld change it if they wo:ild: 

For all they wonii hare t-o c: 

Was to slay a deer :r — ^: 

And each sip a sir 

As it fIo*rd in ciini; _ _ :i 

And acclaim "with one Si.c-Z'OTt 

"That a new law we record. 

And the old shall pass away 

With the passing of this day"' 

And if no one answerd •"nay."' 

Thez ".he ill law pzss'd awaj. 

Chief O-si-Va c:-„i =.:: i^h | 

.Any one to do his tas^:: | 

Though it broke his aged heart i 

With his only chili to part, j 

StUL as Chief he r-nst obey ? 

All the laws and name the day \ 

On which Pas-ca-goti-la yonng J 

Was to dwell the c.^^1 among: 

So he namd :i ~ -r 

Jnst before tl. - z_: :z 

"Tor/" said he. When todies die 

When the mocn inll in -h= sky 

Spirits go wl-i 

To the happy -^ ^-i^ii. 



Pascagoula 



Thirty-seven 



So I heard a great Chief say, 
When as but a child I lay 
Sick and wasting day by day 
In a land, across the bay." 

Os-ce-o-la artful talk'd. 

As among the tribe he walk'd; 

And he found out all but two 

Would be willing to undo 

Tribal custom, and to give 

Pas-ca-gou-la leave to live, 

If she'd swear by the rising moon, 

Which would having its fulling soon. 

That she never, day or night 

Would elope with Raven Night, 

But would wed the coming Fall 

Os-ce-o-la blithe and tall. 

Who would be the reigning Chief 

After just a season, brief; 

But the two who claim'd that she 

Pay in full the penalty 

Were 0-le-ka, short and spry. 

And 0-le-pa, slim and high; 

They had lov'd her, it is said. 

But she lov'd someone instead, 

And they felt it was their time 

Her to punish for this crime. 

So, they oft' together walk'd. 

And together long, they talk'd; 

And the tribe all knew that they 

Look'd in glee, upon the day, 

When the moon would make its full. 

And the horses make their pull 

That would slowly cut in two 

Pas-ca-gou-la, young and true. 

Os-ce-o-la tried, to find. 
He could never change their mind. 
And his words did not avail, 
Nor his pleadings once prevail, 
And his pleadings to them there 
Was as to the empty air. 

Os-ce-o-la saw that he 
Driven to extremity, 
Must another plan evolve. 
If he would this problem solve; 
And save her, who v/as to him 
More than law or tribal whim. 



Thirty-eight 



Pascagoula 



So resolv'd he, there and then 
To destroy both of these men. 

Pas-ca-gou-la coming too 

From her madness, scarcely knew 

Even Os-ce-o-la who f 

Loved her with devotion true. | 

Some things she appear'd to know, | 

Then her mind would quickly go, | 

And she'd lapse into a dream, , 

And just for a moment seem ! 

To be living in delight j 

In the realm of Raven Night. ] 

For she'd sing "I'll happy be ij 

With my Chief north of the sea." | 

Then she'd laugh and then she'd cry, j 

Then her soul would heave a sigh, { 

That spoke words of grief to those | 

Who in pity, felt her woes. i 

Then her mind would wander through ■ 

Gorgeous fields where beauties grew I 

In the sunset's golden glow ' 

In a land she did not know, '] 

In that mystic sweet somewhere | 

Quite unlike this world of care. ! 

One eve as the twilight's shade I 

Mellow'd in the nearby glade, , 
And the twinkling evening star 

Shed his rays of light afar, ; 

Pas-ca-gou-la seemed to be - 

Pas-ca-gou-la mentally. \ 

Os-ce-o-la did await I 

Until night, threw wide her gate, ; 

Then he softly stole around, I 

Sat beside her on the ground; 1 

Looked into those sparkling eyes, ; 

Brilliant as the starry skies. ' 

Told her of his ardent love I 

Brooding o'er her as a dove i 

Brooding o'er his nesting mate | 

Through the morn and evening late; j 
Told her how his anxious heart, 

From her love would ne'er depart; i 

Whisper'd in her list'ning ear ^ 
V/ords, that lovers love to hear; 

Promising her life to save, \ 

As a ransome from the grave, ; 



Pascagoula 



Thirty-line 



If She'd be his faithful wife 
Through the evening of his life. 
Ail of which she answer'd, "She 
Would be his enternally." 

He was happy as could be, 

Fiil'd with trustful ecstacy. 

He would neither eat nor sleep, 

Neither could he mourn nor weep, 

And he felt his body fill 

With a strange but tender thrill. 

And he seem'd to constant be. 

Floating on some mystic sea, 

Where fantastic ships with sails 

Caught the impulse of love's gales; 

And a life unfolded fair 

To his inner vision there; 

And he saw his future years, 

Fiil'd with hopes, and lacking fears. 

He was just in love they say, 
As a man gets now-a-day; 
Yet the love for her he lov'd 
'Gainst his brother plotting mov'd. 
And his heart devis'd a plan 
To destroy his fellow man. 

Oh! Deceitful, sinning heart. 
You have play'd a willing part. 
In the sorrows and the strife 
Of this struggling, moral life; 
You are plotting, plotting still, 
Always have been, always will. 
To attain some selfish end. 
And beneath your feet to send 
All who dare to raise their voice 
'Gainst the object of your choice; 
You are vile, deceptive, evil. 
Home of sin, and crime, and devil. 

Next day when the balmy breeze 
Sway'd the boughs of leafy trees, 
Os-ce-o-la thought to go 
Hunting on the plains below; 
And O-le-pa said that he 
Would go, too, if he'd agree. 
And then, Os-ce-o-la thought 
"This the very chance I've sought.' 



F^ty Pascagoula 

So he answer'd "Yes," and they 
Forthwith started t'ward the bay; 
Where they hunted many hours 
Through the cane and leafy bowers. 
But no game they found to kill. 
And for pass time climb'd a hill, 
Lying down to take a rest 
On the billet's topmost crest. 
As they lay in restful mood, 
'Neath a log of rotting wood, 
Lying near a cany brake; 
Os-ce-o-la spied a snake, 
But he never spoke a word 
'Bout it that 0-le-pa heard. 

Os-ce-o-la long had talk'd 
With 0-le-pa as they walk'd, 
And he saw he ne'er would give 
Pas-ca-gou-la leave to live, 
And his heart grew very sad, 
And his brain waxed raving mad, 
When 0-le-pa said that: "He 
With O-le-ka did agree, 
Pas-ca-gou-la sure must die 
Ere the moon full'd in the sky." 

Os-ce-o-la feign'd asleep 
On the billet slightly steep. 
And 0-le-pa drowsy grew 
As he'd nothing else to do, 
Drowsey grew, and, soon was he 
Sound asleep as he could be, 
Snoring loud and lying still 
On the summit of the hill. 

Os-ce-o-la saw that he 
Was asleeping peacefully: 
So he rose and strode around, 
Went until the snake he found, 
Took a stick and broke its back 
With one well directed whack. 
It was wounded, but, could bite, 
And was eager for a fight; 
So he took it on a stick 
From among the grasses thick, 
And he laid it on the ground, 
By O-le-pa sleeping sound. 
As it could not crawl away. 
It beside the sleeper lay. 



Pascagoula 



Forty-one 



Then, he call'd "O-le-pa, 'wake, 
And our journey let us make!" 
And 0-le-pa did awake, 
But in rousing press'd the snake 
Which in anger hit him twice, — 
(Some say once, and others thrice). 

Os-ce-o-la saw the snake 
Bite 0-le-pa, half awake. 
And he took an arrow new, 
Shot and cut the snake in two, 
Then he kick'd it far away 
From where young 0-le-pa lay; 
And he dress'd 0-le-pa's wound 
With a remedy he found, 
Did for him all that he could, 
'Way out in the distant wood; 

All was done in human power 
For 0-le-pa from that hour. 
Who was swelling, and who knew 
His remaining hours were few. 
As his limb the larger grew. 
All the less 0-le-pa knew, 
And he seem'd at times to be 
Roaming in a strange country. 
Where the flowers blossom'd fair. 
And their perfume, rich and rare. 
Floated on the balmy air; 
Lulling every sense of care. 
Welcoming with sweet repose, 
He who to that country goes. 

He was constant growing weak. 
And with effort did he speak. 
As the poison from its work 
Did not for a moment shirk; 
And he sens'd the end was near 
But he harbored not a fear; 
For he felt that he would go 
To a land of mellow glow, 
Where the sun did ever shine, 
Where the deer was fat and fine, 
And more tame than ever found 
In the cane-brakes growing 'round. 
And where goose, and duck, and bear. 
Lived in plenty everywhere. 

Os-ce-o-la stood by, too. 
Doing all that he could do 



Forty-two 



Pascagoula 



To relieve his suff'ring friend 
As he fast approach'd the end; 
And he linger'd through the night. 
But his soul, with dawning light, 
Wing'd its flight out on the sea 
Of unknown immensity. 

It was sad, the way he died 
In the flower of his pride; 
Died, and never thought nor knew 
Of his death, the reason true; 
Died believing to the end 
Os-ce-o-la was his friend. 

Ignorance thou blanket kind. 
To the unenlighten'd mind, 
What a magnitude of crime 
Thou, dost hide from time to time, 
And, since life on earth began. 
Thou hast been the foe of man. 

When the sun had risen high. 

In the cloudless, tropic sky. 

All went out into the wood, 

Gather'd logs as best they could, 

Which they pil'd in one great pile, 

From the camp perhaps a mile; 

Then they fetch'd, so it is said. 

Young 0-le-pa's body dead. 

And they laid it on the wood 

They had piled as best they could. 

And, as sun set in the west 

Signal'd of aproaching rest, 

Os-ce-o-la, young and glad. 

With O-si-ka old and sad. 

Took a flame, and going nigher 

Set the funeral pile afire; 

And for hours through the night, 

By the fire's lurid light 

Squaws and warbucks sat around, 

Undisturb'd by sight or sound, 

Until near the break of day, 

When the fire died away. 

Then they homeward went their way 

Through the dawning soft and grey. 

Pas-ca-gou-la seem'd to grow 
Slowly better and to know 



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Forty-three 



That the chances were, that she, 
Was to pay the penalty 
With a forfeit of her life 
Or be Os-ce-o-la's wife; 
And she thought she scarcely knew 
Which she would the rather do, 
"But the love of life," thought she, 
"Forces me his squaw to be." 

On about the first of June, 
In the waxing of the moon. 
Young O-le-ka said that he 
Would go hunting near the sea. 
Where a herd of wildest hogs 
Fed at leisure in the bogs; 
And he ask'd in manner slow 
Os-ce-o-la, too, to go; 
For he lov'd him as a shot 
Who could hit a vital spot; 
And whose arrows, night or day 
Seldom ever went astray. 

Os-ce-o-la feign'd that he 
Did not care to hunting be. 
But he took his strongest bow, 
And decided he would go; 
For good luck to him had brought. 
Just the very chance he'd sought. 
With O-le-ka young to talk 
As they took their rambling walk. 
Of his willingness to give 
Pas-ca-gou-la leave to live. 
And together as they walk'd 
They on general topics talk'd, 
Spoke of Pas-ca-gou-la soon 
To be tried near fulling moon, 
When, Alas! O-le-ka said, 
"He and young 0-le-pa dead. 
Had agreed, that they would stand 
For the custom of their land. 
And in pow-wow both demand 
That her life blood stain the sand; 
And as young 0-le-pa died 
Ere the case was to be tried. 
He would stand to what he said 
To his friend, O-le-pa dead." 

Os-ce-o-la knew that there 
Was no use in fighting fair; 



Forty-four 



Pascagoula 



For if young 0-le-ka stood 
By what he had said he would. 
He could never hope to save 
Pas-ca-gou-la from her grave. 

Young 0-le-ka saw the frown. 
Weighing hard his features down; 
So he smil'd a little smile 
To himself, once in a while, 
And unthoughtedly he said, 
"In a moon she will be dead, 

Os-ce-o-la heard what he 
Had spoken, unthoughtedly; 
But he never spoke a word 
In regard to what he'd heard. 

After while they reach'd the bogs, 
Where they often hunted hogs; 
And they saw 'neath underbrush 
On the highlands, 'cross the slush, 
Quite a herd, who, sleeping lay, 
Neath the shade of scented Bay. 
Os-ce-o-la took his stand 
On a little knoll of land, 
For he aim'd to kill his hog 
As they made off to the bog, 
After young 0-le-ka's shot 
Had arous'd them from the spot 
Where they long had sleeping lay 
In the burning heat of day. 

Young 0-le-ka without fear 
Slipp'd upon them very near; 
Took and arrow sharp and new 
From his quiver holding few; 
Plac'd it in his cedar bow 
Twang'd the string and let it go. 
Aiming at the time to kill 
Just the hog to suit his will. 
But the rising ocean breeze, 
Swaying all the shrubs and trees. 
Blew his arrow from its way 
Just a little, so they say, 
And it struck a full grown boar, 
Feeding near the boggy shore; 
Struck him light, but fill'd his heart 
With a devil's firey dart; 
And he madly sniff'd the air. 
Bristled up his bristling hair; 



Pascagoula 



Forty- five 



And without the least delay 
Charg'd O-le-ka for a fray, 
An<l was right upon him there 
Ere he hardly was aware; 
And he scar'd O-le-ka so 
That he somehow dropp'd his bow 
And was forc'd to turn and flee, 
Or in pieces rended be; 
So no time lost he in flight. 
And in fleeing fled to right 
T'ward where Os-ce-o-la stood 
Near a tree of limby wood, 
With an arrow and his bow 
Ready for the coming foe. 



It was Os-ce-o-la's fun 
To see young O-le-ka run, 
And he only wish'd the hog 
Would but rend him in the bog; 
For to see him dead and burn'd 
Oft' his jealous heart had yearn'd. 

Os-ce-ola thought to shoot 

At the swift approaching brute, 

And to sink an arrow rough 

Deep into its forehead tough; 

But when he pull'd on the string 

(Though a quite uncommon thing), 

Quick it snapp'd itself in twain 

And could not be tied again; 

So the only thing to do 

V/as to run the marsh grass through 

'Till he reach'd a live oak tree 

Not so distant from the sea. 

And to quickly climb this tree, 

That he might in safety be; 

For O-le-ka and the hogs 

Ran straight for him from the bogs. 

And would reach the place he stood 

In the shortest time they could, 

And with rawhide bow-string broke 

Fighting hogs was not a joke. 



So he ran straight for the tree, 
Reach'd and climb'd it hurriedly, 
And in moments just a few 
Young O-le-ka reach'd it too. 



Forty-si > 



Pascagoula 



With the hogs behind his heels 
Mad, and grunting angry squeals. 
And he climb'd the live oak tree, 
That he might in saftey be; 
And the hogs all gather'd round, 
Fiercely rooting up the ground, 
As if they but meant to see 
If they could uproot the tree; 
And they root'd many hours, 
To the limit of their powers. 



As the hogs went not away, 

Young 0-le-ka thought to play. 

And to tantalize the boar 

Which had chas'd him through and o'er 

Bogs, and sea-marsh until he 

Reach'd that lonely live oak tree, 

So he cut a rawhide string 

(It was just a little thing,) 

And he dropp'd it till he found 

It was touching on the ground; 

Then he swiftly trail'd it 'round, 

'Mongst the hogs upon the ground. 

When the boar saw it there, 
Swinging wildly in the air. 
He made at it with a rush. 
As if to its vitals crush. 
And such speed attained he 
That he ran against the tree. 
And 0-le-ka laugh'd to see 
His collision with the tree. 

As the hogs more tired grew, 
O-le-ka more daring grew, 
And to satisfy a whim 
Once lean'd low upon his limb. 
And he gave the boar a whack 
With a stick across his back. 
Os-ce-o-la all the while 
Sat above him, with a smile 
Forc'd upon his features strong. 
Through the weary moments long. 
In his brain he held a thought. 
Held a viscious murderous thought. 
But if it would count for aught. 
It with danger great was fraught; 



Pascagoula 



Forty-seven 



If he fail'd, it cost his life, 
If he won, he sav'd the life 
Of the one, he long'd as wife 
In this vale toil and strife. 
Then said he, "0-le-ka you 
Dare the hogs, and I will too; 
And whatever you will do, 
I will do, and better, too; 
I can reach down and not fail 
To catch boar by the tail." 

Young O-le-ka thought that he 
Must in jesting humor be; 
So he slowly scratch'd his head 
While these daring words he said; 
"I will watch and see you fail 
To catch boar by the tail.." 

Os-ce-o-Ia could not take 

Such a dare while wide awake. 

So he reach'd his hand down low 

S'wung it frantic to and fro, 

And, when boar as his habit. 

Made an eager dash to grab it, 

Os-ce-o-la without fail 

Let him pass and caught his tail. 

Young O-le-ka with a frown 
Reach'd as far as he could down. 
Waving fast his hand to dare 
The old boar waiting there, 
Which came darting at his hand 
In a frantic manner grand. 

Quick almost as lightning's flash, 
Os-ce-o-la, wild and rash, 
Leap'd upon O-le-ka there 
Hanging midway in the air. 
And he struck him with such vim 
As to knock him from the limb. 
And he fell to earth below, 
Fell'd by his aggressive foe; 
But he grab'd himself, the limb, 
And held to it with a vim. 
And intently watch'd the boar 
Gnash O-le-ka o'er and o'er, 
Until life had ceas'd to be 
In his body 'neath the tree; 



Forty-eight 



Pascagoula 



And he long view'd with delight 
This repulsive, sickning sight, 
Of the boar, man and mud, 
Crimson dyed with human blood. 

Young 0-le-ka did not live 
Long enough to battle give; 
For just as he struck the ground 
All the mad hogs ranting 'round 
Gnash'd and tore him as the gales 
Tear to shreds unfurled sails. 
Then they laid them one by one, 
Down to rest, as setting sun 
Kiss'd the tree tops of the west 
With a benediction blest. 

Soon the twiligth's cooling shade 
Freshen'd hill and plain and glade; 
While the dewdrop's moist'ning kiss 
Met the flowers, not amiss; 
And the wild hogs lying round, 
Seem'd to all be sleeping sound; 
But the pris'ner in the tree 
Long'd a longing to be free, 
Long'd to eager run and tell 
Pas-ca-gou-la, all was well; 
For the warbucks both were dead 
Who demanded and who said, 
"Pas-ca-gou-la young must die 
Ere the moon fulls in the sky," 
Dead and none would ever know 
It was he, who plan'd it so. 

As the hogs went not away, 

In the tree he had to stay, 

And as darkness came along 

With the nightbird's doleful song. 

Heavy grew his eye lids there. 

In the balmy, vernal air; 

And with scanty comfort he 

Soon was sleeping in the tree, 

And was dreaming all the time, 

Of a maiden quite sublime. 

Whom he some day hop'd to wed. 

As his rivals both were dead; 

And he dream'd on through the night, 

Until morning dawning light. 

Woke him, to but find the hogs 

Had retreated to the bogs, 



Pascagoula 



Forty-ni«e 



And as soon as lie could see 

Os-ce-o-la left his tree, 

And went to 0-le-ka who, 

Cold in death, and wet with dew. 

Lay asleep — like on the ground. 

With an ugly gaping wound 

In his temple, from which blood 

Oozing trickled to the mud. 

Then, he took his lonely tramp 

Through the swamps back to the camp, 

Told how young 0-le-ka died 

In the yester-evening tide, 

And with warbucks and O-let-chim 

(Rough made bier, on which to fetch him), 

Went and fetch'd 0-le-ka dead 

To his home, so it is said, 

And they burn'd him as the sun 

Set upon his day's work done, 

As they had done o'er and o'er 

To the warbucks gone before. 



Pas-ca-gou-la better grew. 

With each day, and more knew. 

And she seemed to realize 

All the past to the surprise 

Of the tribe, who thought that, "she 

Would for years an insane be." 

Os-ce-o-la's anxious heart 
That had lov'd her from the start. 
Grew more loving as the days 
Opened up the means and ways 
Of convincing her that he 
Lov'd her as devotedly, 
As a loving human heart 
Could but love its better part. 



Now the fulling of the moon. 

Rounded out in rosy June, 

And O-si-ka, Chief, must call; 

Not a few, but one and all. 

To a pow-wow of the tribe 

That each one his thoughts describe 

And say, if, they will'd to give 

Pas-ca-gou-la leave to live, 

And if not, demand that she 

Pay in full the penalty. 



F«tv Pascagoula 



So the pow-wow met at noon 
On the day near fulling moon, 
And they voted one and all, 
Squaws and warbucks young and tali. 
And they slay'd a fatted deer 
They had captur'd grazing near, 
And they sipp'd the heated blood 
As it flow'd in pulsing flood. 
Saying "We consent to give 
Pas-ca-gou-la leave to live;" 
And, she did, they say, declare 
To her father, and all there 
She would never, never wed 
Raven Night, though they be dead. 
Whereupon 0-si-ka old. 
Did her slender form enfold, 
Plac'd his hands upon the hair 
Of his only daughter fair, 
Saying, "Child, I know that you 
Stand for all that's good and true, 
And for treaty take your word 
By the tribe so plainly heard, 
I revoke the law, and give 
You my child the right to live. 

Os-ce-o-la's heart was gay 

As the birds of balmy May; 

Though his task was hard and slow. 

He had conquer'd every foe; 

And he more than conquer'r stood 

Just an Indian of the wood. 

Pas-ca-gou-la rapid grew 

Better, as the hours flew; 

And began again to be 

Quite herself entirely. 

And whenever chance was found, 

Os-ce-o-la came around 

With his love to eager talk. 

Or if chance to take a walk; 

Thus the Spring, and summer, all 

Pass'd away into the Fall. 

It was now late in the Fall, 
And the robin's well known call 
Could be heard on every hand. 
In that balmy, Southern land; 
And the time drew on a pace 
For the wedding to take place. 



Pascagoula 



Fifty-one 



Os-ce-0-la's heart was glad, 
Pas-ca-gou-la's heart was sad, 
For some how she felt a feeling 
Of despondency was stealing 
O'er her from the early morn. 
Until twilight shades were born. 
And approaching sorrows fast 
Their impingings o'er her cast, 
And a dark foreboding fear 
Constantly was ling'ring near. 

Just before his wedding day 
Os-ce-o-la went away 
To the north, in search of game. 
But at nightfall, homeward came, 
Empty handed, all afright 
As the band of Raven Night 
Were not many miles away 
With the closing of the day, 
And were scouting in the way 
Of their camp, near by the bay. 
And would reach it ere the sun 
Rose upon a day begun. 

Chief 0-si-ka, being told 
Of this move of Raven bold. 
Rightly guess'd that Autumn night 
He had come to bitter fight. 
Or to claim his daughter's hand 
As the Chief — squaw of his land; 
And he said, "My daughter, dear. 
Will you promise to me here 
You will never, never wed 
Raven Night, though I be dead"? 
And she promis'd there that night. 
In the moonbeam's mellow light. 
That her promise she would keep. 
Though it led to lifeless sleep. 

Chief 0-si-ka, knew to fight 

With the band of Raven Night 

Was to lose, but what could he 

Do in his extremity! 

To the south, he could not flee, 

As before him lay the sea. 

To the north, and left, and right 

Were the men of Raven Night. 

"So", said he with quickn'd breath, 

"We well fight unto our death; 



Fiffy-two 



Pascagoula 



And if we should chance to lose, 
We have but one thing to choose; 
That is drowning in the sea 
As we'll never captur'd be!" 

As the daybreak faint was born 
On that chill December morn, 
Chief 0-si-ka took his men 
And retreated once again 
To the south a little way 
To get nearer to the bay; 
And the squaws and children they 
Put between them and the bay, 
While the warbucks hid around. 
Lying flat upon the ground. 

With the rising of the sun 
Came the Indians, one by one, 
Anxious to surprise the camp 
Of 0-si-ka's tribe on tramp; 
And when they came to the spot. 
Where the camp was, but was not; 
They grew anxious all the more 
To push southward to the shore. 
Where they knew the tribe must be. 
As they could not cross the sea. 
And they hurried one and all 
Through the reed-cane large and tall, 
'Till at length they came in sight 
Of the tribe they long'd to fight. 
Then they shot an arrow o'er 
Chief 0-sa-ki's wigwam door, 

Which was answer'd by a shot 
From the bow of 0-le-tot, 
And which pass'd just to the right 
Of their leader. Raven Night, 
Piercing deep into the brain 
Of a warbuck, "Silverstain," 
Who sank quickly to the ground, 
Dying of a mortal wound. 

When Chief Raven saw the shot 
From the bow of O-le-tot 
Strike and sink deep in the brain 
Of his comrade, "Silverstain," 
All his soul sank in despair. 
And he leap'd high in the air. 
And he warhoop'd loud and clear. 
That his warriors far and near 



Pascagoula 



Fifty-three 



Might come to him with a rush 
From their hiding in tlie brush; 
And they came with mad'ning rush 
From among the underbrush. 
And he pointed to the head 
Of his comrade lying dead; 
And led off without delay 
T'ward the enemy at bay. 

On they came in silent way 
Where O-si-ka's warriors lay 
Well conceal'd among the brush 
Waiting their attacking rush, 
And as Raven came up nigh 
Arrows thick began to fly, 
And his men began to fall 
'Mid the grasses thick and tall, 
And they fought this way for hours, 
To the utmost of their pow'rs. 
And the band of Raven Night 
Suffer'd greatly in the fight. 
And he knew it would not do. 
To fight thus, — expos'd to view- 
While O-si-ka's warring men 
Sliot, and hid themselves again. 

It was now the time to choose, 
Would he win or would he lose? 
He would have to charge the band, 
If he drove them from their stand, 
Or if he would capture there 
Pas-ca-gou-la young and fair. 

He had men, yes, men to spare. 
In a battle royal there; 
So he signal'd all his men 
That they follow him again, 
And he made a charging rush 
Through the vines, and underbrush, 
Follow'd by his warbucks who 
Eager long'd his will to do. 

As they came on near the bay 
Where O-si-ka's fighters lay. 
Quick they rose and fought them there, 
Fought them foul or fought them fair; 
And the band of Raven Night 
Suffer'd mostly in this fight; 



Fifty-four 



Pascagoula 



And he said "Twill never do 

To stand full expos'd to view. 

And allow those hidden men 

To shoot us and hide again. 

We must either win or lose, 

And to win, I hereby choose!" 

"And we too will follow you," 

Cri'd his warbucks tri'd and true. 

So they rush'd a headlong rush 

Through the tangled vines and brush, 

'Till they came unto a place 

They could view each others face; 

Here they fought, and fought, and fought, 

And their arrows havoc wrought, 

'Till there lay upon the ground 

Many men with mortal wound. 

Os-ce-la did command 
The maneuvers of his band, 
And they fiercely fought 'till they 
Were compell'd to give away, 
By the rush of Raven Night 
And his mighty men of fight. 
Then they fell back toward the bay 
Where the squaws and children lay, 
There they made a final stand. 
To defend their native land. 
But his band was very small. 
Just a dozen all in all. 

When 0-si-ka v/eak and old 

Saw the dash of Raven Bold, 

He had not a word to say. 

But he strode down near the bay, 

And his daughter young and fair 

Stood beside him, waiting there. 

In her hand she held her bow. 

And the arrow, which you know 

Os-ce-o-la shot to kill 

Raven Night as was his will; 

While the squaws and children, all 

That were large and that were small, 

Congregated on a ledge 

Near the briny water's edge. 

And they eager watch'd to see 

How the next attack would be. 

Raven and his fighting men 
Rush'd upon them once again. 



Pascagoula 

And surrounded all the band 
Fighting for their home and land ; 
Then they threw their bows away 
That their tomahawks might play 
In a short and bloody fray, 
On that most eventful day. 



When Chief Raven saw that he 
Fac'd again his enemy 
Who had tri'd to shoot a dart 
Midway through his pulsing heart, 
All the hatred of his soul 
Through his brain did surging roll. 
And he rush'd upon him there, 
Fighting with insane despair; 
And they fought as never men 
Fought before, or will again. 
With their tomahawks of stone 
Tied to handles made of bone. 
How they pounded each on each 
As they came within their reach! 
How they fought like demons there, 
In the cool Autumnal air! 
Each one trying on his foe 
To effect the fatal blow. 



Fifty-fire 



Fighting they were growing weak! 
Fighting still they dare not speak. 
As each needed all his strength 
To prolong their duel's length; 
And the band of Raven Night 
Clos'd around to watch the fight; 
For they'd nothing else to do 
But to watch the duel through. 
As they'd done their deadly work; 
And, not one life did they shirk, 
'Till their foes lay thick around. 
Dead and scalp'd upon the ground. 

Os-ce-o-la saw that he 
Soon would overcomed be, 
So he wav'd his left hand high 
As a signal he must die. 

Just then by a well aim'd blow 
Raven fell'd his bitter foe 
With a thud upon the ground. 
Bleeding from a mortal wound; 



Fifcy-six 



Pascagoula 



And lie scalp'd him lying there, 
Strung his scalp of raven hair 
On his rawhide string, and say, 
It made seven for the day 

When 0-si-ka saw the men 
Of Chief Raven halt, and then 
Start their running t'ward the bay, 
Well he knew he'd lost the day, 
And with scalp cut from the head 
Of his loyal leader dead. 
Only this remain'd to say, 
"Leap, my children, in the bay!" 
And the tribe that roam'd its shore, 
Would be seen on earth no more. 
So he spoke the fatal word 
And as soon as it was heard, 
Without having aught to say, 
Leap'd they all into the bay. 
Children young, and maidens fair 
Sank beneath the waters there; 
Aged squaws, and mothers true 
Sank beneath the waters, blue. 
Only two, — there was no more — 
Stood remaining on the shore. 
They were Pas-ca-gou-la bold 
And 0-si-ka very old; 
And they ready stood to leap 
Out into the briny deep 
Should the band of Raven Night 
Come to capture or to fight. 

Raven border'd on despair 

As he saw them standing there; 

He had seen the others leap 

Out into the silent deep, 

And he fear'd they'd do the same, 

If he nearer to them came; 

So he stood in silence there, 

Meditating on the fair. 

Pas-ca-gou-la held her bow 
And the famous rough ar-row 
Os-ce-o-la pick'd to kill 
Raven Night beneath the hill. 
And she stood, a picture, there, 
In the cool autumnal air 
With her raven tresses rare 
Kiss'd by fading sunbeams fair. 



Pascagoula 



Fifty-seven 



Holding to her father's arm. 
Well protecting him from harm. 

Raven had his men retreat 
To the rear a thousand feet, 
Held his hands in pleading way, 
As if just one word to say. 
And went slowly to the bay 
On that most eventful day. 

As he closer came their way. 
They retreated in the bay. 
And he saw she soon would be 
Lost to him eternally; 
So he ran down from the ledge 
To the water's laping edge. 
And he motion'd them to come; 
And go with him to his home; 
But she faintly smil'd a smile 
Sinking deeper, all the while. 

As she slowly sank from view, 
He then more determin'd grew. 
And he plung'd into the bay. 
Wading t'ward them quite away, 
Anxious to but quickly save, 
Pas-ca-gou-la from her grave. 
And to offer them a home, 
Or in safety let him roam, 
Hoping when 0-si-ka died 
S'he'd consent to be his bride; 
Hard he tri'd to reach her hand 
That he lead her back to land; 
But her sharp and flinty dart, 
Pointed straightway at his heart. 
Held him motionless, they say, 
'Mid the waters of the bay. 

As they further backward drew, 

— More and more they sank from view- 

'Till at length the waters rose 

To the region of their nose. 

Still she held her bow and dart, 

Well directed t'ward his heart. 

But he pleaded with her there 

To relinquish every care. 

And with Chief 0-si-ka old 

Come from out the waters cold. 



Fifty-eight 



Pascagoula 



And go with him to his home 
With his tribe to ever. roam; 
But 0-si-ka firmly said:. 
"I would rather far be dead, 
And be in the hunting ground, 
With my tribe all gather'd 'round; 
Than live with an enemy, 
Trusting to his treachery." 
This, was all he ever said, 
And with haughty shake of head, 
Backward still he further drew, 
Where the waters deeper grew. 

Raven, with a broken heart, 
Disregarded flinty dart 
And one mighty effort gave 
That his idol he might save, 
And her face of beauty rare 
Met his face of grim despair. 
And her smile of loveliness 
Paralized his deep distress, 
And for just a moment he 
Liv'd in love's own ecstacy. 

And he summon'd in that hour 
All the remnant of his pow'r, 
With one hand he clutch'd the bow 
And refus'd to let it go; 
With the other grasp'd her hair 
Floating on the waters there, 
And against her pleading will 
Drew her from those waters chiil 
But ere he could realize. 
Within reach, before his eyes, 
Sank 0-si-ka to his grave 
'Neath the billow and the wave, 
And a little gurgling sound 
Audible a few feet round; 
Was all Raven ever heard 
For 0-si-ka spoke no word. 

With 0-si-ka now no more, 
Waded they back to the shore 
Where they sat throughout the night; 
And the dawning of the light 
Found them sitting, sitting still, 
In the penetrating chill 
Of the damp December fog 
Seated on an oaken log. 




BURIED AFFECTIONS 

So, they dug a shallow grave 
Like unto an ancient cave, 
And in this O-si-ka old, 
Sleeps with Os-ce-o-la bold. 



Pascagoula 



Fifty-nine 



Neither would she eat nor drink, 
Neither did she seem to think, 
Of herself, but only he 
Buried in the silent sea. 

And she sat thus through the day 
In a half distracted way. 
And another night sat she 
Dreamingly beside the sea. 
But the breaking of the morn 
Rous'd her from the dream forlorn. 
And at sunrise of the day 
StroU'd she quite a pace away 
Where the men and women lay. 
Who were drown'd within the bay 
And were cast by ebbing tide 
On the beach's sandy side. 
There 0-si-ka, chief was found 
With the others strewn around; 
And the band of Raven Night 
With a keen sense of delight 
Pick'd the body from the sand 
Bearing it to higher land, 
Where they dug a shallow grave 
Like unto an ancient cave, 
And in this 0-si-ka old 
Sleeps with Os-ce-o-la bold. 

Raven Night the coming day 
Took his bride to be, away; 
Starting for his native land 
Through the reed-cane and the sand. 

Pas-ca-gou-la in a way 
Grew more reconcil'd each day. 
As the old love of her heart 
Soon began to play its part, 
And she felt each glad to-morrow 
More of joy and less of sorrow. 

After hours of ceaseless roam 
Raven Night arriv'd at home 
With his band and bride to be. 
From the land near by the sea, 
And when Min-e-o-la knew 
All her fears had proven true 
Heart and soul both wilted there, 
And she fled in grim despair 



Sixty 



Pascagoula 



And she perish'd, I am told, 
From the winter's blighting cold. 

Pas-ca-gou-la happy grew 

As their nuptials closer drew, 

For their wedding to take place 

When the moon-man show'd his face. 

In the fulling of the moon 

Due in just a season soon, 

For their wedding to take place 

When the moon-man show'd his face. 

Happy liv'd they day by day 

In their own accustom'd way, 

Raven hunting far and wide, 

Pas-ca-gou-la by his side. 

And she always took the bow 

And the same sharp flint ar-row 

Os-ce-o-la shot to kill 

Raven Night as was his will. 

And one eve as twilight shades 

Mellow'd softer in the glades, 

After long and weary tramp 

As they longing sought their camp; 

When she was suspecting least, 

Pas-ca-gou-la saw a beast 

Spring from limb and leap through air 

T'ward Chief Raven unaware. 

And she deftly shot a dart 

Deep into its beastly heart. 

Whence it fell to earth and died 

Slain by Raven's watchful bride. 

Thus they liv'd throughout the years, 

Undisturb'd by foe or fears. 

And their days swift went to be 

Number'd with eternity. 

'Till at length old age drew nigh 

And they met him, — with a sigh. 

In the tribe of Raven Night 
Dwelt a warbuck "Eaglesight" 
Who was longing then for pow'r, 
(As the foolish do this hour) 
And he long'd to rule instead 
When Chief Raven should be dead. 
So he stole the flinty dart 
That was shot at Raven's heart. 
And he poison'd it one day 
In the flowery month of May. 



Pascagoula 



Sixty-one 



So when Raven without harm 
Slightly cut his aged arm, 
To commemorate the way 
Pas-ca-gou-la sav'd the day 
Risking all she had to give 
That a wounded pris'ner live, 
He imbib'd the poison rife 
That dispatch'd him from this life. 

Pas-ca-gou-la left alone, 

Of her life became forlorn 

And she pined away and died. 

In life's autumn evening tide. 

And they laid her when she died. 

In the valley by the side 

Of Chief Raven, where, you may 

Find their graves, perhaps, — some day. 



Sometimes in the waning fall 

When the robins plaintive call. 

After Indian summer days 

Have pass'd with their dreamy haze, 

And the full autumnal moon 

Beams as in the month of June; 

On the anniversary 

Of their battle by the sea. 

When the bay begins to moan 

And the sighing trees to groan, 

And the sea gulls circle high 

In the angry lowering sky. 

Which is but the first alarm 

Of a brooding wintry storm. 

Indian spirits, so I'm told. 

Come from Ocean caverns old; 

Where they are a time confin'd 

For their suicide unkind. 

And they gather on the sand 

Of their once beloved land. 

And, if you clairvoyant be, 

And you watch attentively 

You will see 0-si-ka old. 

Facing Raven strong and bold. 

Then this scene without delay 

Comes up in the tragic play. 



Sixty-two 



Pascagoula 



And you'll see chief Raven Night 
Clasping long his heart's delight, 
Pas-ca-gou-la young and fair, 
Showing not a trace of care. 

Now the last scene you will see 
As the winds howl angrily, 
And the distant lightning's flash 
Antedates the thunder's crash 
Is 0-si-ka, very old, 
Thinly clad against the cold. 
Seeking aimless on the beach 
Some object beyond his reach, 
And in meditative mood 
Prone o'er sorrow long to brood. 
Then, you'll see him silent stand 
Just a moment on the sand, 
Then resume his ambling pace 
With a stoic upturn'd face, 
Saying to himself alone 
In a spectral monotone, 
"I will never cease to dread 
Until Raven Night is dead," 
Then departure quickly takes 
As the storm in fury breaks. 
On the shore and on the bay, 
In a most tempesteous way — 

I am told that people say, 
Oft while bathing in the bay. 
They sweet music plainly hear 
Such as soothes the tired ear. 
And they think this singing noise 
Is made by the girls and boys 
Of the tribe who leap'd and died, 
In the bay at flooding tide. 



DEC 16 19!0 



